No Man Is An Island

No man is an island,Entire of itself,Every man is a piece of the continent,A part of the main.If a clod be washed away by the sea,Europe is the less.As well as if a promontory were.As well as if a manor of thy friend'sOr of thine own were:Any man's death diminishes me,Because I am involved in mankind,And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

The Ecstasy

Where, like a pillow on a bed A pregnant bank swell'd up to restThe violet's reclining head, Sat we two, one another's best.Our hands were firmly cemented With a fast balm, which thence did spring;Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread Our eyes upon one double string;So to'intergraft our hands, as yet